


of black wings in the cold

by hakyeonni



Series: little incubus [5]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 01:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8081872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakyeonni/pseuds/hakyeonni
Summary: sanghyuk struggles with his new life, and finds help in unlikely places.





	

Sanghyuk can't sleep.

He'd expected that, of course. Hakyeon had told him that it would take him a while to adjust and to get used to his new senses. When Sanghyuk'd asked how long, Hakyeon had just shrugged, and Sanghyuk had to repress a hot flash of irritation. Hakyeon had saved his life, but sometimes – just sometimes, when Sanghyuk thinks of all the people he's going to leave behind – he wishes he hadn't, had let him bleed out right there on the carpet. Things would be less complicated then. Being dead's easy. He should know, he was, for a second.

Outside the window, which is open a crack because Hakyeon has the heating cranked up to impossibly high levels, he can hear the sounds of the city, buzzing and noisy. It’s never bothered him before, but then before he could never hear like _this_. He can hear someone cough in their apartment two blocks over. The crunch of leaves as someone walks along the footpath on the adjacent street. Tyres squealing in the next district. It's not just hearing, either, no, all five senses are being assaulted (all five plus whatever weird supernatural ones he's gained) – right now he can feel every thread of the blanket where it touches him, swears he can feel the springs in the mattress.

It's too much, suddenly, and he flings off the blanket and makes his way to the living room, sliding open the door to Hakyeon's balcony and stepping out. It's still cool, but he revels in it, watching goosebumps form on his arms in awe, amazed that they still can. He didn't sign up for this.

_"It's the usual sensory overload," Hakyeon said calmly, grasping Sanghyuk's chin gently and turning his head around to face him. "Don't you remember what it was like?"_

_Over his shoulder, the vampire called Wonshik muttered something that Sanghyuk wouldn't have had a chance at hearing if he was mortal, but he's not, he's not. "Of course I don't fucking remember. It's different for us."_

_Sanghyuk couldn't do anything but shake, his brain slowly shutting down at the complete overload of_ stuff _. All he knew was Hakyeon, all he wanted was Hakyeon, and he shifted closer until he was practically on Hakyeon's lap, fingers clenching and unclenching in his shirt._

_"I remember," the other vampire called Hongbin said quietly, taking a wary step closer. Sanghyuk had his eyes closed, but he could tell by the sound of his feet on the carpet, by the way the air moved. It was terrifying. "It was awful for me, too. Wonshik made me get up and fight while I was still shaking."_

_There was a beat of silence where there was nothing but Hakyeon's arms around him, stroking his hair, his back. "I don't know what to do," Hakyeon whispered. "I don't know how to help him."_

_Silence from the others._

The sound of the balcony door opening behind him startles Sanghyuk out of his daze. It's been a week since then, and while he is now able to function and the overwhelming sensation of _too much_ is fading, he still has moments like this. "Are you okay?" Hakyeon asks, coming up beside him and hovering anxiously. "I woke up because you were awake."

One of those Weird Incubus Things, as Sanghyuk had taken to calling them. A maker and child are linked – if one feels pain, so does the other. If one is upset, the other feels it too. Seems like it's more of a burden for Hakyeon than it is for Sanghyuk, honestly.

Sanghyuk steps closer instinctively (another Weird Incubus Thing – he craves platonic contact now, from Hakyeon especially but from others as well. It just feels comforting to him) and intertwines their fingers slowly. They're both naked – he because clothes are kind of hard to wear, Hakyeon because that's how he's slept since forever, apparently – but that doesn't matter now. "I'm okay. I couldn't sleep."

Hakyeon sighs, and strokes his cheek gently. They can say some things without words, now, and Sanghyuk understands what Wonshik and Hongbin are doing when they have long glances at each other from across the room. Hakyeon's saying _I'm sorry_ and _I hope you feel better_ , all communicated by the way he draws Sanghyuk close, into a hug. Perhaps hugging Hakyeon in the nude on his balcony should be strange, but in the grand scheme of things it doesn't even register, not anymore. Before (and it's always capitalised in his head, a big Before), when he _would_ find this weird, seems so far away now it's like it doesn't even matter.

Hakyeon shifts, and Sanghyuk gets a sense of something else thrumming underneath his skin, completely separate to the concern. It's lust – no, not lust, it's _hunger_ , and the moment Sanghyuk feels it his own hunger slams into him with a vengeance. It's not helped by Hakyeon nuzzling his neck, his breath hot against the cool of Sanghyuk's skin.

God, it's like nothing he's ever felt before, that hunger. He only has a dim memory of it from when he was turned – of pinning Hakyeon down, of tearing into his flesh with fangs, of the feeling of Hakyeon's very soul flowing into him, becoming him, making him alive – and it feels so strange that he shudders with it. It's not like a hunger in his belly, no, this is deeper, resonating from behind his breastbone, threatening to break free and take his heart with it. It's old and powerful and frightening, because it swirls through his veins and lights him up from the inside, an itch under his skin. He can't stand it, he can't _stand_ it, so he pulls Hakyeon into a kiss, knowing, instinctively, that this will soothe him. And it does, for a moment, when he gets a taste of Hakyeon's energy as he takes it, sweet and familiar and invigorating.

"No," Hakyeon snaps, pushing Sanghyuk away – but he's panting and his eyes are glowing yellow so Sanghyuk dodges his hands and kisses him again, deeper.

Hakyeon growls – he actually _growls_ , like a dog – and shoves Sanghyuk so hard he goes sprawling backwards on the tiles. "I said no. That's not how we work."

"Why not?" Sanghyuk spits, aware he sounds (and probably looks) like a petulant child as he folds his arms over his chest. "It's how it worked before."

"That was a one-time freebie. The only time you're getting energy from me is if you're dying, _again,_ " Hakyeon mutters, before realising he's clearly said the wrong thing and crouching in front of Sanghyuk, his face falling.

Sanghyuk just glares up at him for a moment, before realising this is one argument he simply isn’t going to win. For as long as he’s known Hakyeon, he knows that when he gets that expression on his face he simply cannot be swayed. He has no choice but to get to his feet, scowling. “This is unfair,” he mutters as they head inside.

Hakyeon doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to. The knowledge that Sanghyuk didn’t have a choice in this, in _any_ of this, hangs heavy and weighty between them, too painful to face.

//

_“How is he?”_

_Sanghyuk had been sleeping, just dozing on Hakyeon’s lounge, but he was jolted awake by the sound of voices. Hakyeon and Jaehwan, stood in the kitchen by the sounds of things, trying to be quiet. It wasn’t much use, because Sanghyuk’s hyper-sensitive hearing picked up their conversation easily, and he found it hard to sleep anyway._

_“Depressed, I think. I don’t know. He barely smiles, doesn’t laugh. It’s like he’s a ghost,” Hakyeon whispered back, and when Sanghyuk cracked an eye open he saw Jaehwan had drawn him into an embrace._

_Jaehwan smiled wanly and pressed a kiss into Hakyeon’s hair. “I can’t relate.”_

_“No, of course you can’t. I sometimes forget you weren’t human like the rest of us,” Hakyeon sighed back, his eyes closed. “I’m worried about him.”_

_“He’ll be okay,” Jaehwan said, and he sounded so self-assured and confident that it obviously relaxed Hakyeon, because Sanghyuk saw his shoulders drop._

_Sanghyuk wished he could share that confidence._

It takes him an hour to get ready, because he refuses to shift, and instead goes through his regular human routine of showering, shaving and getting dressed. It takes Hakyeon all of five seconds and he spends the rest of the time hovering around anxiously, his eyes following Sanghyuk everywhere, the worry written all over his face. Sanghyuk will shift if Hakyeon asks him to, of course. And Hakyeon has, a few times, to make sure that he still _can_. He’s still getting used to the sensation, still doesn’t know what to feel about it, so he prefers to do it like this. At least like this he can pretend that everything’s still normal, like he’s just going out to get laid like he’s done hundreds of times before. God knows he needs it, because the hunger is gnawing at him something fierce, now, and it’s all he can do to clutch Hakyeon’s hand in the back of the taxi.

What he won’t admit to Hakyeon or Jaehwan or Hongbin or _anyone_ is that he’s fucking terrified. The last time he left the house he _died_ , and while he’s still trying to piece together his memories from that night _(wings, cold, feathers, a white-hot blade of pain through his stomach),_ the fear is still ever-present, making his heart race so hard he’s sure it will fall out of his chest. Will he die if it does? What are the limits of his immortality? Does it even matter anymore?

Before he knows it, they arrive at some god-awful club in some district that Sanghyuk’s passed through once or twice. They have no chance at running into anyone they know here, unless they’re being followed, and Sanghyuk takes a few guilty glances backwards as Hakyeon drags him into the club.

“Tell me if you sense any vampires. They’re pretty territorial, and won’t be too happy about us being here,” Hakyeon murmurs in his ear as they go down the stairs, the bass thumping up towards them, comforting and safe.

Sanghyuk looks at him, alarmed. “Why me?”

“With how sensitive you are, you’ll feel them before I will,” Hakyeon replies grimly.

Oh. Great. Not only does he have to worry about not being killed by the horrible thing that attacked him that day (that thing that he doesn’t even have a face for, let alone a name) but he has to watch out for territorial vampires, too. He’s just about to ask Hakyeon why they couldn’t bring Wonshik or, preferably, Hongbin, but then he’s melting into the crowd, heading for the bar, leaving Sanghyuk languishing on the sidelines.

It’s just a club. That’s all it is. It’s where Sanghyuk practically lived, when he wasn’t taking clients or sleeping, but that was Before and this is Now and things are so very different. Somewhat helplessly, he follows Hakyeon, sensing his presence rather than feeling it with any mortal senses. Perhaps that should be frightening, but he just can’t bring it in himself to care when he has so many other things to worry about, like how he can feel eyes on him, hot and prickly, and how he’s straining to try and feel vampires. He only really knows what Wonshik and Hongbin feel like, but if anyone asked him to define what a vampire’s… aura? essence?... felt like, he’d be shit out of luck. Hakyeon clearly trusts him, and maybe that’s enough, for now.

“What do I do?” Sanghyuk mutters miserably as Hakyeon finds him again, pressing a cool beer into his hands.

Hakyeon looks at him like he’s got an extra head. “You know how to get laid. It’s your job. This should be helping you,” he says, gesturing to all of Sanghyuk vaguely, referring to his new incubus status. “Just pick someone you like the look of and hit on them.”

Sanghyuk shuffles a bit closer so that he can feel the heat of Hakyeon’s body, and that awakens the hunger again, just a little bit. Hakyeon notices his pupils dilate – or maybe he hears his heart rate pick up, or maybe it’s just one of those Weird Incubus Things – and smirks. Sanghyuk wants to smack the sly look off his face. “How do you do it?”

Pointless question, because what Hakyeon does is what Sanghyuk had been attracted to originally, years ago, when he’d stumbled into a club not dissimilar to this one. That time he’d been human and he’d been absolutely intoxicated by the way Hakyeon had moved on the dance floor, so fluid and self-assured, that when they made eye contact Sanghyuk had nearly fallen over. Nineteen and naive like he was he hadn’t stood a chance when Hakyeon had approached him to draw him into a kiss. There was something about him that was so ethereal Sanghyuk had trouble believing he was real, even when Hakyeon had pinned him down onto his mattress and fucked him torturously slowly, revelling in the way Sanghyuk had writhed and begged for more. His otherworldliness made perfect sense when Hakyeon had told him the truth, as had the unexplainable exhaustion that came over him every time Hakyeon so much as kissed him. And still he kept coming back, hooked on Hakyeon like he was a fucking drug. He should have run and then they wouldn’t be here, Sanghyuk wouldn’t be miserable and wishing he could just go back home and crawl into bed and ignore the way his heart is racing because he’s surrounded by so many mortals and he can smell sex in the air.

Hakyeon smiles at him, and it’s such a genuine, caring smile that some of his worries ease a little bit in the face of it. “I dance, but you just do what you do best. Talk to people. Use your charm. I know that hasn’t gone away,” Hakyeon tells him, and nudges him towards the bar. “Go on. I’ll be close.”

It’s immature of him, but as he obeys and makes his way to the bar he feels very young and alone again. He’s not, of course, he knows Hakyeon will protect him to the death – something that’s been proven already, or else they wouldn’t be here – but there’s still a cloud of doubt wreathing him. He can’t quite understand it. Hakyeon seems so self-assured, so confident in himself, like he was born to be an incubus. It’s not that he’s inhuman, but that he almost seems like he’s _forgotten_ what it’s like to be human. _Maybe he has_ , a voice whispers to him, the devil on his shoulder. _Maybe you’ll forget too._

Shrugging off those thoughts, Sanghyuk leans against the bar, nursing his beer and watching the bartenders scurry back and forth. He can have a breakdown later, in the privacy of his own room. Right now the hunger is sharp and painful, the lust creeping into his bones and pervading every thought. Just being in a club would never turn him on like this before, but now all he can think about is the press of bodies against each other, the slick smell of sweat on the air, the lingering glances between people. It’s fascinating, even if maybe he doesn’t want it to be, and he finds it hard to resist.

_“Feeding’s easy,” Hakyeon said, cutting the crusts off Sanghyuk’s sandwich neatly. “Especially for you. Kissing gives a little bit of energy, but it’s more of a taste than anything else. The more sexual the contact gets, the more energy you get. Penetration is best. Their orgasm is where the peak energy flow happens.”_

_Sanghyuk reached across to snag one triangle of sandwich, ignoring the way Hakyeon slapped his hand. “God, alright. How often do I need to feed?”_

_Hakyeon shrugged. “Depends. The less energy you take, the more often you need to feed. So if you’re just going around living off handjobs, you’ll get hungry after a couple of days. Full-on sex? Well, it depends on how much energy the person has to give, and how much you take, but around a week.”_

_Chewing slowly, Sanghyuk drunk in the information, let it swirl around his head. He’d thought (perhaps naively) that Hakyeon’s life was easy, but there was a lot more to this incubus stuff than he’d thought. Not to mention vampires, and angels, and demons, and Jaehwan – Sanghyuk couldn’t even look at him anymore without feeling wrongness in his gut – and whatever had attacked him. Before this was a world of curiosities; something for him to peer into, but ultimately he stayed on his side of the line, safe and secure. Now it was a world of horrors, his reality, and he was stuck on the other side of that glass, peering out into what used to be normal._

As it turns out, Sanghyuk doesn’t have to try very hard at all. Within five minutes of lounging on the bar people-watching and working up the courage to go and dance – he’s not as good as Hakyeon, but he doesn’t have two left feet – a human approaches him with a smile and an offer to buy him a drink. He’s wary at first, of course, but soon settles into an easy rhythm of conversation. It seems an age since he’s laughed, but soon he’s doubled over, slapping the bar, laughing so hard he can barely breathe. It feels so fucking right and freeing that he feels a weight lift off his shoulders, easing his burden slightly.

By the time they make their way to the bathroom, Hakyeon catching Sanghyuk’s eyes and shooting him a wide grin, Sanghyuk is feeling somewhat lighter, lacing his fingers with the human whose name he’d been told but had promptly forgotten. The lust is clawing at his insides, so violently that he’s almost afraid to open his mouth lest it spills out everywhere, the visual representation of his shame. It’s all he can focus on as the man pushes him into a stall, closing the distance between them, his hands settling on Sanghyuk’s waist. Before he can even contemplate what he wants to do – he certainly doesn’t want to get fucked in this filthy toilet stall – the human kisses him, the decision being made for him.

The first thing he feels is the energy, sweet and light and invigorating, and without even realising what he’s doing he deepens the kiss, feeling his eyes glow yellow. Fuck, _fuck_ , this is living, this is what he was made for, this is what he’s been yearning for all along. Hakyeon’s kiss doesn’t even compare to this – if that was the sun, this is a fucking supernova, and he wants more, needs more. Sinking to his knees, he yanks at the man’s jeans, feeling the mortal’s hand slide into his hair and tug at it, relishing the feeling. He forgets all about Hakyeon, all about his worries, all about everything except the energy that he lives for, not even caring when the man thrusts up into his mouth so violently he chokes, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. It’s frantic and fast and there’s no words, and not least because he can’t really talk, but that doesn’t matter because they don’t need to say anything.

The more energy Sanghyuk takes, the more he starts to lose himself. It’s little things at first, like Hakyeon’s name, and then his own, but soon all he can focus on is the energy, the pleasure, the way the human is groaning and pulling at his hair. He’d never understood the taking of energy when Hakyeon had tried to explain it to him, as a human, but now he gets it, he gets it, he can’t get enough and he needs _more_. The man’s orgasm hits him, and he gasps and comes into Sanghyuk’s mouth, who just drinks in the energy more and more. It’s like a door is opened, a gate left unlocked, and all of a sudden Sanghyuk is taking more than he knows what to do with but he can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop, not when it feels this good. He’s vaguely aware of the man’s knees trembling, his hand falling from Sanghyuk’s hair, but he just doesn’t care. It’s not _enough_.

“Sanghyuk!”

Sanghyuk leaps to his feet immediately, bent over into a crouch, hissing ferally at whoever’s calling his name. Heartbeat, he can hear that, can hear someone’s pulse thudding as they push into him. Familiar scent, comforting, _Hakyeon_. Threat.

“Sanghyuk, what have you done?”

Worry tempering his voice. Guilt. Hands on his face, gripping his chin, making him _look_. Hakyeon looks concerned, and Sanghyuk shrinks back instinctively. Some of the fog in his brain is clearing now that the energy is gone, and he realises he’s done something very wrong. Hakyeon pulls him in for a hug and he stands there, trembling, his eyes closed, slowly coming back to himself. It takes a few minutes, but in the end he’s shaking with his hands clenched in the fabric of Hakyeon’s shirt, keeping him tethered, trying desperately to hold back tears.

“What did I do?”

Hakyeon strokes his hair soothingly. “You took too much. You got carried away. It happens to the best of us.”

Daring a glance at the man, Sanghyuk feels his blood go cold. The human is pale, too pale, and he’s slumped on the floor, lifeless. He stares at him furiously, trying to will life back into him, but there’s no movement. Nothing.

Without a word to Hakyeon, he wrestles his way out of his grasp and through the bathroom door, running as fast as he can blindly through the club, heading for the stairs and taking them two at a time. His chest is tight, and he can barely breathe, and maybe that’s just because the air is so _hot_ in here but perhaps it’s the knowledge that he’s a fucking murderer, that he’s killed someone. Hakyeon calls his name from behind him, but he doesn’t even falter, just keeps pushing forward until he’s out under the moonless sky, panting, bent double and holding his waist like his insides are going to come spilling out. Maybe that would be preferable, maybe that would hurt less. He’d thought Hakyeon was inhuman, but what a joke that was. How inhuman is he to commit murder, to get carried away, and not even care that he was doing it?

As Sanghyuk begins to walk, not even caring where he ends up, he realises the hunger is gone. Well, _nearly_ gone; the moment he thinks of it it flares up again, but it’s less true hunger and more mild interest. He feels full. Full of someone else’s energy that he’s fucking stolen, would have kept going, would have sucked him dry and had no remorse. One foot in front of the other. Easy.

Mortals are walking all around him, enjoying the unseasonably temperate night, laughing and joking amongst themselves. He’s never felt more detached from them in his entire life, and that should terrify him, but in the wake of all that’s happened he just doesn’t care. They’re fascinating to watch, completely oblivious to the monster that’s walking among them, the monster that could kill them as easily as they breathe. If he focuses, he can get a rough sense of how much energy each person would give him, if he did choose to feed on them. The hunger stirs again, but he ignores it and turns his eyes to the ground, walking along steadily. He wonders if Hakyeon is looking for him.

Taking a left into a quieter street, he relaxes a bit, looking up at the sky. There’s no moon tonight, just stars making a beautiful silver blanket, bright and pure. He can see more than he ever could before, and wonders for a moment if it’s because it’s a particularly clear night or something, before looking around him and realising it’s almost certainly his immortal senses. A human would have trouble seeing in this street, with no streetlights and no moon, but he can see everything clear as day. It’s oddly comforting, because he knows the thing that attacked him had got the jump on him because he was stumbling through a street not unlike this one, very nearly blind and entirely helpless. Now he feels confident and safe, and with the stars so close it’s like he could reach out and touch them his worries begin to ebb away.

Then, of course, something jumps on his back.

The fear is instant and paralysing, and he’s sure he’s going to die again. He can’t remember much, but as he falls to the ground, arms cartwheeling helplessly, he tries to prepare for a sword in his gut, slicing him open, just like before. He can’t even bring himself to _shift_ , he’s too damn scared, too immobilised with fear of what’s to come. There’s no sword, though, just him hitting the ground face-first, and the sense of _things_ all around him. Two of them. Maybe it brought backup this time?

“What the fuck are you doing here, incubus?” the thing growls in his ear, and before he can move it kicks him in the side savagely. “This is our territory.”

Oh. _Oh_. Vampires. Of course. He should have known, should have felt it. They feel sort of like Wonshik and Hongbin do, sort of cold and metallic, which is the only way he can describe their auras. At least it’s not the thing that attacked him, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to get out of this alive.

Struggling to his feet, he faces them, his breath haggard. There’s a woman and a man, both of them crouching, baring their fangs at him. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how the fuck to talk to them or what to shift into to fight them, and realises they have probably tracked him all the way from the club and he’d been too caught up in his feelings to notice.

The woman cocks her head to the side and smirks. “Look how _new_ he is.”

“And he’s just fed,” the man growls, his fingers twitching. Sanghyuk resists the urge to shudder. “I’ve always wanted to taste an incubus.”

Shift, shift, _shift_ , his brain is screaming at him, but he doesn’t know what the fuck to shift into, doesn’t know what the hell vampires are afraid of. Another vampire? A bat? _Jaehwan?_ An angel? He doesn’t know, and all of a sudden he _hates_ Hakyeon for letting him get involved in all of this. Hakyeon would know what to do, Hakyeon could scare them off, and for the life of him he hopes that his fear is strong enough to read, wherever he is. He feels so fucking childlike and useless that he just wants to crawl up into a ball and cry. No, he wants to reverse back a month, where he was human and normal and happy and he hadn’t _died._ No, going back even further, he wishes he’d never met Hakyeon because then he wouldn’t be here. The vampires are creeping closer, their movements jerky and animalistic, and Sanghyuk starts shifting on claws, height, long teeth, anything scary. He might die, but he’s sure as hell not going to go down without a fight. Not like last time.

The air ripples behind him, and he whips his head around just in time to see Hongbin appear out of nowhere and sprint full-speed into the male vampire. He’s so fast, _so_ fast, that the vampire doesn’t even know what’s hit him and Hongbin has ripped his throat out before Sanghyuk can even blink. The woman roars and leaps onto Hongbin’s back, but he flips her over and slams her into the ground savagely, snapping her neck clean in two.

The most terrifying thing through all of this, as Sanghyuk shrinks into the shadows and tries to make himself very small indeed, is how emotionless Hongbin is. His movements are swift and precise, like he’s practiced this exact thing thousands of times before, and his face is devoid of expression. For the first time, Sanghyuk is glad he’s an incubus – to see such brutal violence conducted in such a cool, detached way horrifies him.

“Are you alright?” Hongbin murmurs, looking up from the two bodies at his feet, and Sanghyuk is staggered by the expression of worry that’s etched on his features. It’s such a contrast to how he was moments ago that he feels slightly sick.

Pushing himself off the wall, he takes one step forward, then another, and then another, until he’s close enough to touch Hongbin on the face. The blood spattering his features only serves to define them more, so Sanghyuk balls the sleeve of his jacket up and dabs delicately at his cheek. “What are you doing here, Hongbin ex-machina?” he replies, deliberately avoiding Hongbin’s question.

The truth is he isn’t alright. He’s never been less alright in his _life_. Everything seems to be spiralling out of his control and there’s not the slightest thing he can do about it, and once again he finds himself yearning for escape from this world of horrors.

Hongbin snorts, his mouth twisting up into a smile, and Sanghyuk can’t help but give him a small smile back. “Hardly. I was in the area, and felt your fear from a mile away. I’m glad I got here in time.”

Sanghyuk might be new, but he isn’t stupid, and that lie is as easy to see through as glass. There’s no good reason Hongbin would be wandering around strange territory – minus Wonshik, no less. Still, he isn’t going to question it, considering he’s just had his life saved, _again_. Soon he’ll be owing life debts to every one of Hakyeon’s friends. He opens his mouth to say something – to call Hongbin out on his bullshit and ask what he’s _really_ doing here – but is completely distracted by how pretty Hongbin looks underneath the stars now that the blood is gone. His features are so delicate, entirely unbefitting the violence he’d just enacted, and Sanghyuk sways a little closer.

 _Snap out of it_ , he tells himself, cursing his weakness for pretty boys. “I don’t believe you,” he says instead, deliberately keeping his tone light and playful. “Where’s Wonshik? Why are you here by yourself?”

“Why are _you_ here by yourself?” Hongbin counters smoothly, grinning. “You’re full, which means you fed, but where’s Hakyeon hyung, hm?”

It had been so easy to forget what he’d done with Hongbin standing in front of him, smiling at him in the slightly snarky way that he does, but with his words all the shame comes rushing back and he staggers back a step, inadvertently. Hongbin has just killed two of his own kind and he doesn’t even seem bothered, but he’s had a century to get used to this. Sanghyuk’s had a week, and the knowledge that he’s a murderer is nearly too much to bear. Hongbin senses that something’s wrong, because he grabs Sanghyuk by the elbow, keeping him upright. Good thing, too, because his knees are going weak for all the wrong reasons.

“I… fed,” Sanghyuk mumbles as Hongbin pulls him close into a hug. He’s grateful for the contact. It’s somewhat soothing. “Hakyeon was just outside, but he wasn’t quick enough to stop me. I took too much. I think I killed him.”

Hongbin doesn’t say anything for a moment, just slides his arms around Sanghyuk’s waist to rest on his back. It’s somewhat odd that they’re standing here like this, since even though Sanghyuk’s seen Hongbin a dozen or so times since he was changed (he’s living at Hakyeon’s place for the moment, just until he gets back onto his feet, and he’d thought that was going to be soon but apparently not) they’ve only had a handful of close encounters.

_Sanghyuk walked into the kitchen to see Hongbin bent over, peering into the fridge and muttering under his breath. It would be rude to stare at Hongbin’s ass, but he did anyway as he dumped his glass in the sink, the clatter making the vampire look up. His fangs were out – which meant he was irritated or turned on or just couldn’t be bothered retracting them, apparently – and Sanghyuk winced at the sight of them. “What’s up?”_

_“Why the fuck does Hakyeon hyung not have anything in his fridge except red bull and coke?” Hongbin replied, straightening up and slamming the door shut._

_Sanghyuk shrugged. “He usually goes out to eat. We had some rice in there, but I finished it off yesterday.”_

_Sliding across the tiles in his socks, Hongbin bumped into Sanghyuk playfully, nearly sending him sprawling. “Yeah? Aren’t you the errand boy? Wonshik hyung still makes me go out and buy him groceries. It’s like I’m a live-in slave.”_

_“I had a servant when I was human, and trust me, Wonshik’s hardly asking a lot from you,” Hakyeon yelled from the other room._

_Hongbin rolled his eyes so violently at Sanghyuk that he swore they were going to fall out, and he had to cover his hands with his mouth to stifle his laughter lest Hakyeon heard his snorts. Hongbin didn’t help, instead elbowed him in the side, grinning widely. “Sometimes I get my own back,” he whispered into Sanghyuk’s ear, his nose brushing his hair. “Wonshik hyung only likes O negative, but I sometimes get AB positive. He hates that.”_

_It took a moment for Sanghyuk to get it, but when he did he gagged theatrically and shoved Hongbin in the side, sending him sailing across the kitchen thanks to his socks, his arms flailing. “Gross!”_

_“At least I don’t get energy from sucking dick,” Hongbin yelled over his shoulder as he returned to the living room, and Sanghyuk just shook his head, smiling._

“I killed someone the first time I fed by myself,” Hongbin’s saying, and Sanghyuk shakes himself out of his revelry. His voice is solemn, low, and Sanghyuk realises this is the most serious he’s ever seen him. “Without Wonshik and Hakyeon, I just… went mad. He was walking home at night alone, and I… I forgot everything they’d ever taught me.”

Hongbin has gone impossibly still, the way vampires do sometimes; Wonshik’s usually the one doing it, since Hongbin’s like a wriggly puppy most of the time, completely unable to stay immobile for more than a minute. Sanghyuk honestly finds it creepy, and he buries his head in the crook of Hongbin’s neck, trying to bring him back from there. “What did they do?”

“They didn’t yell at me, if that’s what you mean. They knew what happened when I came home bloody and fuller than I should have been. Hakyeon hyung stayed with me all night,” Hongbin whispers, but his hands tighten in Sanghyuk’s shirt.

It’s almost too much to take in, and Sanghyuk closes his eyes and breathes slowly, taking in Hongbin’s clean, metallic scent, the smell of drying blood in the air. His senses aren’t _that_ refined, at least compared to Hongbin’s, but he can tell the difference between human blood and vampire blood. This has a tinge of old magic around it, and the only reason he knows what he’s feeling is old magic is because his gut tells him so. He’s sick of this intuition, sick of surprises hitting him from every angle, and he’s fucking exhausted. “Can you take me home?” he mumbles, his eyelids fluttering, holding onto Hongbin like he’s the only thing keeping him afloat.

“Sure,” Hongbin replies softly.

Things get fuzzy after that. Hongbin talks on the phone for a while, and then they start walking towards his car, which is parked nearby. Even through the fog of fatigue and irritation Sanghyuk knows it’s another point to him – Hongbin wasn’t just ‘in the area’ at all. There’s not much he can do with the information, though, so he just holds onto Hongbin’s hand and lets himself get pulled along, lets himself get buckled into the car and driven home. When they get to Hakyeon’s apartment, Hongbin carries him through the carpark, up the lift and down the hall. Sanghyuk’s only really aware of it because he wakes cradled in his arms, and has a moment to marvel at vampire strength before passing out again.

_“What happened?”_

_“Wonshik hyung asked me to follow you two.” Hongbin’s voice is far away, like he’s on the other side of the room, and Sanghyuk stirs. He’s on his bed, he can tell that much, and wonders vaguely how he got there. “I watched him leave the club, but he didn’t look upset or anything. Just wandering.”_

_Hakyeon puts a hand on Sanghyuk’s forehead, brushing his hair out of the way and sighing. “Wonshik is overprotective.”_

_“Maybe. Or maybe he has a point. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that all of this can be linked to you in one way or another.”_

_A beat of silence before Hakyeon sighs again. “I’m too exhausted to argue with you. Thank you for saving his life. I hope he comes back to me soon.”_

_“What, wakes up?”_

_“No. Becomes himself again. I miss the old Sanghyuk.”_

_Hongbin snorts. “I don’t know the old Sanghyuk… but this one is pretty great.”_

Sanghyuk sleeps.

//

Wings, dark wings in the cold, pain.

He’s walking down an alleyway, stumbling, really, since he’s had too much to drink, but whatever. His next client tomorrow is at 1, or was it 2? Late enough for this not to matter. One foot in front of the other. Easy. Wishes he hasn’t lost his fucking phone so he could call an uber, but no, he’s an idiot and it’s missing. It’s probably under a pile of washing in his room – wouldn’t be the first time.

The alley is dark as pitch, and he curses as he nearly trips over his own two feet, grazing his hands when he throws them against the brick wall to keep himself upright. The smell of his blood is metallic, and when he touches it and feels the wetness underneath his fingertips he winces. It’s just an encouragement to pick up the pace, and he manages to right himself and keep going.

After a moment, he swears he hears footsteps behind him, swift and getting closer. _Shit_. He knew this was a bad idea, and thanks god he only has a couple of hundred bucks cash on him after the bender of the night and not more. Muggings are pretty rare in this district, but they do happen. Turning as fast as he can (and managing not to fall over in the process), he peers into the darkness behind him, seeing… nothing. There’s nothing there, but something tells Sanghyuk he’s being watched, that staying still would be a bad idea right now. Listening to his instincts, he turns and starts hurrying towards the street, the isle of a streetlight seeming so far away. Childish, to be afraid of the dark, but how can he not be when his skin is crawling?

He only goes a few steps before the footsteps start again, but this time when he turns he sees him. It? Whatever it is, it’s one of Hakyeon’s immortals, because he can see the huge, draping wings, shifting and glittering underneath the weak moonlight. He can’t _see,_ doesn’t know if it’s Hakyeon playing a trick or… what was the name of that immortal Hakyeon was fucking? Jae… Jaehyo? Jaeho? _Jaehwan!_

“Very funny, Jaehwan,” he slurs, taking a step closer to him. “What’s your problem?”

The thing steps closer, into a tiny patch of light, and Sanghyuk’s blood runs cold. This thing isn’t Jaehwan. This thing is the most murderous looking person Sanghyuk has ever seen, and in its hand is a sword, the air seeming to shimmer around it. Just _looking_ at it makes his stomach feel wrong so he flicks his eyes back up to the stranger’s face instead, swallowing heavily. He’s suddenly very, very aware of his own mortality, his own fragility, and doesn’t know he can do a damn thing to stop the thing if it decides killing Sanghyuk is its goal.

“What do you want?” he whispers, his mouth dry, taking a slow step backwards and watching as the creature follows him.

It doesn’t speak, that’s perhaps the worst part. It crosses the distance between them in a flash, and grabs Sanghyuk by the throat, wrapping its wings loosely around them. They chill him to the bone, and even though he’s human and Hakyeon has told him time and time again that humans can’t feel magic, he _can_ feel the old, old magic embedded within them. This thing is the most powerful being he has ever felt, and it simply boggles the mind. He feels sick, and helpless, and knows he’s most certainly going to die. The creature’s eyes are all black, not a speck of white to be seen, and when it grins to reveal long fangs Sanghyuk sobs, gritting his teeth and straining to get away. It’s not much use, because the creature licks up his cheek, and its saliva stings.

“Send the incubus my regards,” it hisses, and Sanghyuk is taken aback because it has a high, lilting, _pretty_ voice that seems entirely out of place coming out of that face.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t move when the thing brings up the sword and stabs him cleanly through the gut, its fingers tightening on his throat before tossing him away. The pain is worse than anything Sanghyuk has felt before, like a white-hot poker has been shoved through his belly, and he wraps his arms around himself and screams and screams, can do nothing else except scream, reduced to an animal.

It’s hard to remember, after that. He remembers tears filling his eyes, and when he wipes at them he swears they are bloody, but it is so hard to tell with blood everywhere, blood all over his hands, his blood seeping into the ground. All he knows is the pain, radiating in waves through his entire body, making him scream weakly, his energy depleted. The last thing he sees before he blacks out is the stranger peering down at him, a small smile on its face. Then he’s gone.

Wings, pale wings in the cold, _pain_.

He remembers.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this doesn't advance the plot _that_ much, but I felt like I needed to write Sanghyuk's POV considering what he's just gone through. I hope it isn't too jarring. Sorry for the long break as well, writing 35k in a month completely burned me out and I needed some time away from writing... but I'm back now.
> 
> I hope the ending makes sense, and if it doesn't... well, stay tuned!
> 
> hope you enjoyed ♡
> 
>  
> 
> also yes that's totally a Skyrim reference in the title lmfajklgfo


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